Dark green, worn and battered, half the handle broken off, the bristles crushed from months, no, years of use.

Hand carved of ancient ivory, bristles so fine and white they glistened, Chinese characters inlaid in jade on the handle, a piece of art in itself.

This one buzzed when you pushed the button. Bzzz, bzzz. The bristles were green and in a circular pattern, bzzz, bzzz, bzzz.

Pink and sparkly, a cheerful tune played if it moved.

Another plain plastic one, this in brown with a soft rubber grip at the end, clean and new.

This one was her favorite, though. She picked it up and held it to her eyes. Inside the clear blue plastic swam tiny little orange fish. At least they were supposed to look of fish but they were a mite too small and made of plastic to be real fish. But they floated and bobbed up and down the handle. But if you shook it too hard bubbles formed, and the fishies were obscured.

“Girl, what in the gorram world are you doing?”

“I’m cleaning the floor like the captain asked,” River said as she pushed the red brush against the cold steel decking.

“Gwai-gwai long duh dong! That’s my toothbrush,” Jayne yelled.

Without looking at him she held up the glittery pink brush. Jayne snatched it from her hand.

“Crazy nutter,” he mumbled as he stormed back to his bunk, a cheery tune following him as he went.

“You’re welcome,” River called after him.

This story was originally posted at livejournal on February 3, 2008. It has been slightly edited for grammar and clarity.

Like this:

Millers Kill Mysteries
Russ/ClareRuss takes a little time off from the busy July 4th crowd to spend a little time with Clare.

293 words | rating: PG

Clare watched the fireworks from her spot on the faded, worn blanket spread out in the grass of the park. Overhead the bright shower of sparks exploded with a loud pop. She jumped, her body going rigid at the sound.

“Flashbacks?”
She glanced over her shoulder to find Russ standing a few feet away, still in uniform, but with his hands jammed in his pockets. She shrugged in answer then turned back up to watch another shower of colors descend over the “oohing” crowd.

“It took me years to not jump at every backfiring car or bottle rocket going off.”

“I know.”

After a moment, he lowered himself to the blanket next to her and sat quietly. She noticed he wasn’t watching the show. “Are you still on the clock?”

“Once a cop, always a cop.” His eyes finally slid over to hers, and she felt her pulse speed up. She quickly looked away, her face flushing under his scrutiny.

Another pop caught her off guard, and she gave Russ a sheepish grin. He just smiled, scooting closer until their legs were touching—not overtly intentional looking, but obvious to her nonetheless. She didn’t even notice the next blossom of sparks; her eyes fixed on Russ. He spread his hands away from his body and leaned back on them, mimicking Clare’s position. As his face turned up towards the show, she felt his fingers brushing against her hand. It took every ounce of will power not to look down at them, not to draw attention to the illicit touch. She swallowed hard and followed his gaze up to the night sky trying to be content in the little gesture of friendship he offered. It was all they had.

This story was originally posted on July 9, 2011. It has been slightly edited for grammar and clarity.

Welcome to Flashback Friday Fic where I go back and repost fic I wrote years ago.

The Atlantis jumpers are good for a great many things. Taking long flights between planets is not one of them. Now Rodney is stuck in the small compartment with his team with flashbacks to an ill-fated college road trip.

1076 words | rating: PG

“I’d like to reiterate again what a colossally bad idea I think this is,” Rodney told the others as the jumper headed into the wormhole. They exited the other side and immediately took to the air, rising into the atmosphere in seconds. “I don’t do well on road trips,” he continued, oblivious to his team’s rolling eyes and pointed stares. “I get claustrophobic and there’s the matter of snacks and bathroom breaks. And there’s always one person that never shuts up.

“I remember this one time as an undergrad, I went with some other people in the dorm to a football game. Don’t even ask why I was going. There was this girl—a blond, real sporty. Anyway, the drive was like three hours, and it was hell. The driver refused to stop for any breaks other than his own, and the music blasting…”
“McKay,” Sheppard barked, interrupting Rodney’s train of thought.

“Hmm?”

“We all know you think this is a bad idea. Your protest has been noted.”

Like this:

I got a notice from WordPress that I have officially been on this site for eight years.

Here’s the text from my very first post here:

When I get bored…I make new blogs. I’m just searching for a blog home. A sight that I feel offers me enough options to satisfy my blogging with the least amount of money dished out. I’m not ready to start paying to blog yet. I just blog out of boredom…about whatever comes to mind.

Sometimes it is rants about my kids and husband. Other times it is to show off my newest scrapbook page or sweater I knit. In November I blog about NaNoWriMo, a novel writing challenge. You just never know what I might write about on any given day.

Real profound.

In July 2008, I only had four kids. They were 8, 6 1/2, 5 1/2 and 2. We were all living at my dad’s house in Chicago again, and I was heavy into digital scrapbooking, had fallen in love with all things Joss Whedon, and got hooked on Stargate SG-1. It’d be another two years before my youngest is born and we move across the country. 2008 was also my fourth year doing NaNo, and the first time I won.

Like this:

Welcome to Flashback Friday Fic where I go back and repost fic I wrote years ago.Stargate SG-1
(Jack/Sam)The moon has a direct effect on natural forces, like the tide, but it’s also said that it exerts a force over humans as well. On a mission, Jack finds out exactly how true that is, and he hopes Sam will never remember it.

2227 words | rating: PG-13

“You should not be out on this night.”

Jack looked around for the hidden voice, finding a small man wedged in the shadows of two buildings. “Oh really?”

“Why not?” Daniel asked, concern raising his voice slightly.

“Did they not tell you? All who travel here know.”

Jack frowned. “Tell us what?” He didn’t like the sound of that.

“Of the pull of the moon. The moon creates the monsters. You must not be out on this night.”

“You’re out.” He eyed the squat little man with distrust.

“I am homely. My threat is low. You are…” he tilted his head back to view Jack’s face, “pleasing to the eye. You will have danger if you are out.”

Daniel’s face paled. “What danger?”

In the distance Jack heard a howl—a guttural, animal sound that chilled his skin. Daniel must have heard it, too. His head snapped around to stare along the street.

“You must go. You must be inside on this night. The moon…” The man disappeared into the dark leaving Jack feeling confused and more than a little apprehensive.

“What was that about?” Another howl in the distance had beads of sweat pop up along Jack’s brow.

“I think we should get inside,” said Daniel.

The howling grew louder, closer. Jack swallowed hard. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. Let’s go find Carter and Teal’c and get out of here.” Daniel didn’t need to be told twice, turning and hurrying back towards their lodgings. Jack followed behind at a slightly more sedate pace, keeping his eyes peeled for trouble. The growing howling wasn’t doing his nerves any favors.

At the end of the street two figures approached. “O’Neill,” Teal’c called, waving them over. Jack sighed of relief.

“Teal’c, Carter-” He trailed off when Carter came into view around Teal’c. She looked… off.

“Sam, what’s wrong?” Daniel moved to touch her but Teal’c put a hand out to stop him.

“I would not do that, Daniel Jackson. Something on this planet is ailing the women.”